The Secret Life of Foxface
by ChickenHugger
Summary: Who was the mysterious girl with a fox-like face? How did she like the Capitol? What was training like for her? How did she manage to last so long? This will all be answered if you read on. My first story! I do not own the Hunger Games! Rated teen for mild violence. PLEASE REVIEW!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Canusa!" my mom calls, "Canusa, where are you?" I look over and see her making her way towards the brook, a nervous expression on her face. "Please come out! I don't like the woods!" She was clearly veering on a mental breakdown. Slowly, silently, I slink down from my tree. "There you are!" she yells and runs to embrace me. My mom is terrified of what is going to happen today. The reaping. What she doesn't realize is that there are hundreds of kids. Maybe thousands. District 5 is the smallest district in Panem, but that doesn't mean there are only 30 or 40 kids, like my mom seems to believe. I don't like it, but I am the spitting image of my mother. We are both petite, and though I am 17 I am only 5 feet 1 inch. We both have fiery red hair and intelligent green eyes. But we are different in personality. My mom is outgoing and personable except in the woods, whereas I am standoffish on a good day. I speak so rarely that people have asked me if I'm mute before. Which, by the way, I'm not. I feel most at home in the woods, but my mother is scared of them. She grips me and finally let's go. "Diana's here." she says, clearly trying to coax me out of my secret haven. Diana! The one person I feel who truly likes me at school. Diana is my opposite, with short blond hair and standing at 5 feet 8 inches. She is loud and funny. Popular, even. In short, everything I am not. I sigh and slink out of the forest.

Sure enough, Diana is waiting. "Hey Fox!" she yells. Fox is my nickname, I guess because I sort of resemble one. Also, I am smart and cunning. People tend to not trust me, and I don't trust them. It works out just fine. "Hey Dee," I whisper. Teachers don't like me even though I am the top of every class because my voice never gets higher than a soft sputter. "You ready to die?" she jokes playfully. I roll my eyes, Then I notice what Diana is wearing. Or should I say, NOT wearing. It is customary to dress in nice clothes for the reaping, but Diana apparently doesn't care. She is dressed in her usual faded t-shirt and dusty jeans. "I gotta go change," I mutter, "You want a snack?" She shrugs but follows me anyway. I head to my small room that always smells like smoke and find a gray dress on my bed. Perfect. I can blend in this. I put it on, savoring the feel of the satin against my skin. I'm lucky my dad runs a power . Otherwise I probably would've signed up for tesserae like so many others and never worn this lovely dress. I shuffle out and Diana whistles. "Well, if you get picked you won't be shamed," she says. My mom walks in. "Hi girls, let's go," she says it shakily and I briefly feel bad for her.

In the square, creepy Peacekeepers herd Diana and me in with the other 17 year old girls. When everyone is accounted for, Vivian Chance, our official escort straight from the Capitol, walks to the microphone and gives her usual speech. That stupid Capitol accent has really got to go. "Happy Hunger Games!" she ends, "And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!" Capitol citizens are so messed up. Do they think we have a chance? Do they think that we WANT to do this? I hope not, because that couldn't be further from the truth. Vivian coughs, probably because of the smog from the power plant, and chirps, "Ladies first!" Most of the girls catch their breath, but not me. I am confident. I have my name entered just a few times, and besides, I know how to survive. Now her gloved hand is unfolding the square of paper dramatically. It's not me. It can't be me! "Canusa Auro!" she says loudly into the microphone.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Train

Chapter 2

No. I must have heard that wrong. Who's Canusa Auro? Do I know her? Now everybody is looking at me. A sob comes from the parents. My mother. It must be. Deep breath, and I walk to the stage. "Are you Canusa?" Vivian questions me. Her accent mangles the "s" is my name. I nod.

"Excellent!" she yells, "Now for the gentlemen!" All I can hope is that I don't know him. "Godfrey Tillwin! Come join us!" Thank god! I don't know him. I look to the crowd and see a 14 year old nervously tumbling to the stage. He has no chance. I'm sorry for being coarse, but it's true. He has frizzy brown hair that goes every which way and is very gangly. His brown eyes are big and shining with fear. He looks back at the crowd as if he expects someone to volunteer for him. But that never happens in 5.

"Shake Hands," commands Vivian. We clasp hands stiffly. His is clammy and cold. Poor kid.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Canusa and Godfrey, the District 5 tributes in the 74th annual Hunger Games!" yells Vivian imperiously. A brief applause comes and we are taken to the Justice Building. Godfrey dries his tears and we are forced into separate rooms.

A minute later, my parents rush into the room. We hug and huge tears dapple my shoulders.

"Canusa..." Dad starts, the pain in his voice very apparent, "Canusa, we love you. Never forget that. You can do this honey. You have to." My mom nods sadly and sobs again.

"I love you to guys. I'll try to come home." My whisper is barely audible. We embrace again and a Peacekeeper tosses them out. My final goodbyes caught in my throat, I wonder if that will be the last time I see the two people who love me. My mom and dad.

I have another visitor, Diana. She gruffly wipes away her shining tears and says, "Sorry. I should've volunteered for you."

"No," is all I can manage. She hugs me tightly and slips me a tiny glass bottle. I look at it and see a few scrapings of tree bark.

"Is this..." I say incredulously. Diana nods, confirming that this is bark from the tree I favor in the woods. _My_ tree. I hug her and she leaves. I glance sadly at my tear spattered dress. All the beauty of my life is gone with one tiny, seemingly insignificant scrap of paper.

Vivian snatches me up and we go to the fancy Capitol train. Godfrey returns, his once handsome shirt now sodden with salty tears, clutching a tiny piece of blue material. I recognize it instantly as a fragment of a solar panel, our district's main export.

"Token?" I grunt. He nods and goes back to focusing on restraining tears. We sit in the dining car with Vivian, who has changed and is now wearing a ridiculous silver wig on her purple skin. Next thing, we're gorging ourselves on the best and fanciest food I have ever tried. We have more food in District 5 than, say, District 12, but never enough to completely satisfy. I try something called "salmon" from District 4 that isn't my favorite and a pheasant from 10 which I love! I try nearly everything on the table, from lime spritzer to beef burgundy to vanilla mousse. Vivian gives us all the names because I only recognize one or two. Occasionally, I look out the window to see the rapidly passing districts. 4 seems to be practically all water. Finally Vivian tells us our mentors have woken up.

We have two, which is lucky. Spark, an old man who looks pretty strong looks at us like he's already arranging the funerals. And Vienna, a tough young woman who smiles sadly at us.

"Chins up," she says, her dark eyes showing concern, "we'll be in the Capitol soon."

"Yeah, we're passing the last jewelry factory in District 1," puffs Spark. In 5 minutes, we are in the tunnel to the Capitol. It seems to go on for miles, just and endless piece of silver metal. But at last we emerge and get our first glimpse. Vivian has since left due to what I imagine is a phantom headache. My teacher wasn't exaggerating when he said the Capitol is extravagant. All around I see gold and platinum buildings and silver streets. And then there are the people. All over I see stilts and wigs, purple dogs and little lemon colored monkeys. Crazy clothing swirls around. I see talons and tentacles.

"Come on," says Vienna, "you're about to meet your Stylist."

**PLEASE REVIEW! I hope you like this chapter! There is more on the way!**


	3. Chapter 3 - A Silver Gown

As she circles me, I wonder what my tribute parade outfit will look like. Probably something yellow and garish, like usual. Finally, my stylist who introduces herself as Ivory speaks.

"Well, the prep team did a good job on you. Are you ready to see your dress?" without waiting for an answer she walks to the closet and pulls it out. I stare at it in astonishment. This is no cheesy yellow dress. This is a full length silver gown, covered in sequins. Every ray of light is reflected off of it.

"Is that really it?" I ask softly. Ivory nods, her orange wig bobbing. Then she shows me a silver plate that goes around my face and helps me into this lovely dress. I would expect the inside to be rough and scratchy, but it is as soft and smooth as my reaping dress. She zips up the back and turns me to face the mirror. The girl in my reflection is not the me who lives in District 5. She is not the girl who spends her days up a tree. She is gorgeous. And I have never felt beautiful until now. Ivory smiles and steers me to a chair where she starts applying makeup. Silver eyeliner, pale blush, and ruby colored lipstick. The plate is carefully strapped around my face so as not to muss the hair my prep team worked so hard on. I turn back to the mirror.

"Now you have to smile!" says Ivory, "Make them like you!" I'm not good at that. I don't like going before a group of people. Ivory takes my hand, painted with silver nail polish, and walks me to the chariots. Even the horses are metallic gray. Godfrey is dressed similar to me, with a silver suit and round head plate. I look around at the other tributes. Nobody really sticks out. The tributes from 2 are dressed like Romans, which is fitting. 11 is farmers, like always. And 12's tributes are just dressed in black jumpsuits, which doesn't seem to make sense. What are they doing? Godfrey and I climb into the rickety chariot and take a deep breath. He looks at me.

"Good luck," he whispers. I can't speak right now and just nod. Suddenly, the horses start moving and the tributes from 1 are revealed. Wild screams come from the audience, cheering them on. One by one, each pair of tributes is revealed. Finally our horses step onto the runway. Godfrey immediately starts waving and smiling. I stand, glued to my spot, frozen. But people have to like me! So I raise me left hand and cautiously wave it a bit, a small smile on my face. For a brief while, the crowd is cheering for us. But then, simultaneously, they all turn to the end of the runway. What is it? I stare up at the screen and practically fall off the chariot. Those lowly tributes from District 12 who were once wearing simple jumpsuits are now on fire. And the audience loves it. They scream their names over and over, tossing up flowers. The girl seems nervous but waves a lot. I feel a little bewildered but don't let it show. _It's probably just a joke. _I tell myself. _Just wait until they get into the Arena. _The parade ends but the cameras are still on 12. That horrible man with the creepy beard, Seneca Crane, walks to the podium and introduces President Snow. My heart clenches as he walks up. That is the man who is forcing 23 of us to die in a few days. I stare up at him, loathing everything from the puffiness of his lips to the perfection of his rose. He raises his hands and we are sent off. Still the crowd shrieks the names of 12. I walk to my room on the 5th floor of the training center and sit on the velvety bed. I need to plan.


	4. Chapter 4 - Dinner and Beyond

**Chapter 4**

Here is what I know about the other tributes, in order of district:

For District 1, the boy doesn't seem like the brightest bulb on the tree, if you get what I mean. The girl is absolutely gorgeous and she knows it. I'm not really concerned about either.

District 2, on the other hand, is a big problem. Both are well-muscled and, being from 2, are probably good with weapons. But they're cocky. Cockiness has brought now many. Still, they are my biggest threat.

Districts 3 and 4 could be a bit of an issue, but likely not. Both girls and the boy from 4 are young. The boy from 3 is weak.

Districts 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10 are not worrisome. Well, the girl from 10 is strong but doesn't seem tough.

District 11 is going to be interesting. The boy is as brawny as the boy from 2 and is a lot more dignified. He will likely last quite a while. The girl, on the other hand, is his opposite. She is 12 and well under 5 feet tall. I think some people feel sympathy for her. But she will probably die early. I feel a bit sad when I see the way she stands. Almost like a bird.

District 12 worries me a little. The boy is strong but doesn't look brave. Also, he loves the girl. I'm not sure if anyone else really noticed, but I did. It was visible on his face when he looked at her. The girl is oblivious. She, I think her name is something like Katniss, volunteered for her little sister. But 12 never makes it through the bloodbath. I don't know what to expect from them.

I know what my strategy is. I've been using it for years back home. To flee. People say that when faced with danger, it triggers the fight or flight reaction. Most people in the Hunger Games use the fight. But I will do my best to avoid trouble at all costs. I won't even go to the Cornucopia. If there is something right in front of me, then I'll grab it. But I have no desire to foolishly risk my life at the beginning. I wouldn't survive.

"Canusa! Dinner time!" A sharp rapping on my door brings me back to earth. Vivian cracks it open.

"Come along, dear! The chef has prepared the most wonderful stew..." she hoots. I stand up and walk to the door and down the hallway. Sure enough, a delicious scent wafts out of the dining room and I walk in. Godfrey and Spark are sitting at the table, talking tactics. Vienna sits quietly, but when she sees me she smiles and motions at the chair next to her. I sit down uncomfortably as Vivian walks in. Godfrey stops questioning Spark and silence falls upon the room like a heavy blanket. I scoop a bit of stew into my bowl and pick at it. It's good but I can barely enjoy it. Finally Vivian breaks the silence.

"You know, this table is very nice!" she babbles, "Mahogany **(haha mahogany!) **you know! Fine even grain..." she realizes that we won't talk and goes back to her stew. I sip my drink and take another bite of stew.

"Well, I'm going to sleep," says Godfrey suddenly. He gets up from the table and walks away. The rest of the group dissipates quickly. First Spark trudges off, then Vivian says something about "beauty" rest. Finally Vienna yawns and we walk to our rooms.

"See you in the morning, Canusa," she says softly as we part. I nod and close the door. I find a set of silk pajamas in the polished wardrobe and put them on. I try not to think about the upcoming games. I shut the lights off and get under the velvet throw and satin sheets. My hair slides across the pillow as I drift off. The last thought I remember is this:

I must survive.

A shaft of light pours in through a window crack and stirs me awake. I blink. Where am I? It hits me quickly. I am a tribute. I crash back to the safety of my pillows, wanting to groan. But I get up and put on a jumpsuit that has been laid out on the dresser. It is just simple black nylon with a little red. I rub the sleep from my face and walk to the dining hall. Vivian sits at the head of the table, reading a lipstick catalogue. They have a whole catalogue just for lipstick! Such a thing is unthinkable in District 5. But this is the Capitol. I sit down in my chair and take a delicate piece of cream-colored bread. All of the bread on the table looks different. I notice the very dark square loaf that we eat in 5, so I assume that each bread is from a different district. This one in my hand must be District 1, or perhaps the Capitol. I spread a layer of a brown goop called "peanut-butter" on my slice. I've only had peanut butter once before, when I was about 6. I think peanuts are grown in District 11, but I don't know. Maybe 9? Spark and Godfrey walk in, still in pajamas. Godfrey sits down and takes a scoop of eggs. Vienna strolls in a minute later, followed by our stylists. We eat in silence, just like dinner. Vivian glances up at the clock.

"9:30 already! Hurry, Godfrey get dressed! You don't want to be late for training!" she bustles out of the room, muttering about timekeeping. I get up and return to my room. Using an elastic I found in a drawer last night, I tie my fiery red hair up, clearing my face. I dash out the room and to the elevator, where I click the "T" button.

I reach the floor and push open the huge glass doors. All around, I see weapons. Knives, swords, bows. A camouflage center between one for knot-tying and one for fire-building. A huge rack of weights that must each weigh 100 pounds. Ropes hang from the ceiling, and the entire room is painted a menacing black. A tall woman walks in and stands in front of the assembled tributes. A badge states that she is Atala, head trainer.

It's time to train.

**Please review! I have the 5th chapter but I'm going to wait for some reviews before I post it! :)**


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